


A Deal with the Devil (or, Six Dates to Defeat a Demon)

by Little_Red_Hat



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: F/M, Likely to be OOC, New to the Fandom, Not written fanfic in years so have mercy on me, Written before Chapter 5, probably AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-05 05:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14610931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Red_Hat/pseuds/Little_Red_Hat
Summary: Henry approaches the Ink Demon - who he once knew as Joey Drew - with a proposal, in the hope of saving himself and his former colleagues... putting his own body and soul on the line in the process. His hope of success depends on Sammy and Susie remembering their past and rekindling their halted romance - but given their chequered history, has Henry bitten off more than he can chew?





	1. The Deal is Struck

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before the release of Chapter 5, and is set in a (probable) AU where Sammy and Susie are still alive, albeit in their respective monstrous forms. The Ink Demon is a hybrid of Bendy and Joey with some self-awareness, corrupted by evil and power.
> 
> (And yes, the title is a Cuphead reference. It seemed to fit.)

Guided by the dim, flickering light of a candle, Henry slowly traversed the labyrinth of ink-stained walls and creaking floorboards that were once Joey Drew Studios, venturing towards the room he knew to be the Ink Demon's Lair. As always, he clutched his axe tightly in his other hand, ready to wield it if necessary, but hoped on this occasion that he'd have no need to use it. If things went down the way he was planning them to, their meeting would be a lot more... civil.

 

Reaching the door of the old foley recording studio that the demon had claimed as its own, Henry drew a deep breath, braced himself, and pushed it open with a sudden shove. The speed was vital: if it heard a slow creak, the Ink Demon would have time to formulate an attack. His intention was to take it by surprise - and he succeeded. 

 

Turning its head violently at the sound of wood thudding against the wall, the demon emitted an piercing screech, and charged towards Henry - fangs beared, and inky claws pointed and ready to seize.

 

"Joey."

 

The name was said in a flat tone - matter-of-fact, no trace of panic or fear. The sharpness of it stunned the demon, and it froze, staring up at Henry with its large, glowing eyes blazing through the ink. Seeing the aged animator standing there calmly, daring to look it in the face, it let out a low, deep laugh, and slowly straightened itself up in the manner of a man - two legs forming out of its dark inky figure.

 

"So... you've figured it out, eh, Henry?"

 

The voice was a strange hybrid of different tones. Part of it was definitely the voice of the Joey that Henry had worked with all those years ago, but it seemed to be overlaid with the happier, squeaker, almost-melodic voice he'd used for Bendy in the talkie cartoons. The undercurrent, however, was a dark, unnerving echo... the voice of something unearthly. Unholy.

 

"Come on in," said Joey, gesturing with a wave of a dripping claw. "Make yourself comfortable, old pal. I'd have baked you a cake if I'd known you were comin'."

 

As Henry stepped further into the room. Joey slunk past him towards the foley stage. There, atop a pentagram, was a chair that had been covered in solidified ink in order to resemble a hellish throne. Joey placed himself upon it in the manner of a king, giving court to the peasant Henry, who refused to sit down and simply stood there in his presence.

 

 _Typical_ , Henry thought.  _Still, he always was an egotistical little bastard._

 

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Joey purred.

 

" _Why_ , Joey?" Henry asked, in that same unflinching tone from before. "All this... why did you do it?"

 

The demon jerked in an action that resembled a shrug.

 

"Success comes at a cost, Henry," he replied off-handedly. "The gods made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

 

"But why them? Why the employees? They were your  _friends!_  They were loyal to you! What did  _they_  do to deserve any of this?"

 

"Every achievement involves some sort of... sacrifice."

 

Henry hug his head.

 

"Sammy..." he muttered. "I saw Sammy down there - singing his old sheep songs."

 

"Ah, my loyal little prophet," Joey said, almost whimiscally. "He actually thinks his Lord is going to set him free. Ha! He revers me more now than he ever did before. How can I let go of that?"

 

"And Susie," Henry went on. "Alice Angel... I'd know that voice anywhere. What the hell did you do to her, Joey? For Christ's sake, didn't you mess her up enough when she was alive?"

 

"You have to give somethin' to get somethin', Henry," Joey replied flatly, waving a claw dismissively. "The toons needed a human body to inhabit... to act as their framework. I offered myself for Bendy, of course. As for Susie - well, she was already convinced she  _was_  Alice Angel... I simply made her dream come true."

 

He grinned.

 

"Because  _that's_  what I do, old pal."

 

Henry could feel his hands beginning to tremble with rage - his fingers tightening around the axe. One good, quick swing, and he could finish this. 

 

But then... who could say what would happen to the others? 

 

No. It wasn't worth the risk. Exhaling heavily, Henry forced himself to relax, and lifted his head to meet Joey's glare once again.

 

"And it's not just them," he went on. "Norman, Allison, Shaun, Grant... everyone. What about  _their_  dreams, Joey?  _Their_  futures? Futures that  _you_  robbed from them?"

 

" _What_  futures?" Joey hissed. "You mean insecurity and panic when they became unemployed because the studio collapsed? Hell - I had to do  _somethin'_ , Henry! Who are you to judge me? You weren't around when the shit  _really_  hit the fan! By then, you'd already run off, like a rat fleeing a sinkin' ship!  _You_  abandoned them!"

 

Pulling himself back, he let out a low chuckle.

 

"Still," he said, "at least now, they'll be together forever. One big, happy family - just like we were when we all worked here."

 

Henry sighed - turning the axe over and over in his hands.

 

"You're right, Joey," he muttered. "I  _did_  abandon them back then. But I  _won't_  abandon them now."

 

Intrigued, Joey cocked his head, looking down at the little man standing so proudly before him.

 

"And what  _exactly_  do you plan to do?" he asked.

 

Much to his surprise, Henry flashed him a small, thin smile.

 

"You always liked a good deal, didn't you, Joey?" he said. "A man who knew a bargain when he saw one. Well, I'm prepared to offer you the chance of a lifetime."

 

Leaning back upon his throne confidently, Joey clasped his dark paws together - his claws pointed upwards in a pyramid.

 

"Go on," he purred.

 

"Sammy and Susie," Henry continued. "They loved each other, Joey. You knew that, didn't you?"

 

"Of course I did," Joey replied. "Everyone in the damn studio could see it."

 

"Then let's play a little game, you and me," Henry told him. "Just like we did in the old days. Give Sammy and Susie their humanity back, and let's see if they carry on from where they left off."

 

Joey scoffed.

 

"That's a bit one-sided, isn't it?" he hissed. "I mean, come on, pal - what's in it for me?"

 

"If they fall in love again," Henry told him. "then you let them go. You let them, me and all the other employees go - return them to the way they were. But if they don't..."

 

He hesitated, his voice wavering. The pressure of having Joey leaning over him to hear what he said next didn't exactly help the situation either.

 

"If they don't?" Joey prompted.

 

"Then... you get me," Henry said. "Forever. In whatever form you wish. I mean, to be surrounded by loyal followers - anybody with a bit of power can see to that. But to have your rival, a traitor, trapped in your grasp for all eternity - well, wouldn't that be the perfect revenge?"

 

Joey smirked.

 

"Indeed it would," he admitted. "All right, Henry. You're on. But I have some terms."

 

"Name them."

 

"Well, first - I ain't changin' Sammy and Susie back to the way they used to be  _just_  yet," Joey cackled. "I mean, let's not count chickens before they hatch, huh? But, I'll give them  _some_  of their memories back. Just a few. Give you a little somethin' to work with."

 

"Fine."

 

"And second - I ain't waitin' forever for them to get all lovey-dovey again. They have to do it in three days."

 

"Ten."

 

"Six. Final offer."

 

Henry knew that number wasn't a coincidence. Six had strong connotations in witchcraft and demonology - especially when three of them were together. Perhaps Joey was hoping it would help things swing in his favour. Still, it was leeway. 

 

"Very well," he replied.

 

"And lastly," Joey hissed. "I want proof. I ain't just goin' to take your word for it that they're back on the love train. They're gonna have to kiss. And no half-hearted pecks, either. I'm talkin' a real, true-love smooch. The second they do that, then the curse is lifted, and everyone goes home, happily ever after, the end."

 

Cockily, he extended a demonic paw to his former friend.

 

"What do you say? Have we got a deal?"

 

Without a moment's thought, Henry seized the paw, and shook it - his own hand completely enveloped by the sticky, inky appendage.

 

"Deal."

 

As a satisfied Joey began to cackle madly, ink flooded the walls of the studio, and the ground trembled beneath Henry's feet - the floorboards giving way, and sending him tumbling into the darkness below.

 

Leaning back on his throne, Joey buffed his claws against his chest, and sighed. 

 

Sure, he was sacrificing his little prophet for the sake of this bet, but he still had the Projectionist and other creatures firmly under his spell - within his power. With the Bendy cutouts, his all-seeing eyes, dotted around the studio corridors, and with the help of his remaining legions, he stop any sort of lip-lock between Sammy and Susie the second they started making goo-goo eyes at one another.  

 

As for their restored memories... well, he'd never said anything about them all being  _good_  ones.

 

Still, it would be fun to see Henry try to set them back up - and fail at it fantastically. Gods knew he could use some amusement after thirty long years.

 

Chuckling contentedly, Joey sank away into the ocean of ink that had formed around his dark throne.  _This_  was going to be too easy.


	2. The Prophet's Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In return for his devotion to Bendy, Sammy is granted a beautiful vision. But is what he's seeing some distant paradise, or a glimpse into a world that once was?

Within his sacred sanctuary, Sammy Lawrence worked diligently to please his lord and saviour. Using the ink that eternally dripped from his malformed fingers, he hastily drew a pentagram onto the floorboards, surrounded it with candles (which he lit, with great difficulty, using some old discarded matches from a desk drawer), and placed one of the numerous Bendy cut-outs he'd found dotted around the halls within the centre.

 

Content, he slid his mask - the holy icon of his god - back over his face, and prostrated before the cut-out in a low, reverent bow: the impromptu arrangement having formed a sinister altar.

 

"Hail Bendy, Lord of Ink, hear my prayer - grant your unworthy servant your blessing..."

 

In hopeful anticipation, he dared to peek up at the cardboard image of his saviour.

 

In return for his courage, for the first time ever... his prayer was answered.

 

As his eyes met those of the cut-out Bendy, Sammy was suddenly blinded by an almighty flash. As the brightness faded, he realised that the world he could see around him was not the abandoned, decrepit cartoon studio he had dwelled in for so many years, but another place. Similar, perhaps, yet undeniably different.

 

 _This_ was a bright, clean room - a hive of activity. All around Sammy, there were people scurrying to and fro, all working away. Some were sat at desks, drawing. Others were having exciting-sounding conversations with one another: words like "dubbing", "script" and "screening" being among those that caught Sammy's ears. In the room's corners, one man was sewing together the leg of a doll, whilst another loaded a long reel of film into a projector. Yet despite their differing actions, one common factor unified them all.

 

These people were _happy_.

 

This overwhelming sense of joy spread to Sammy. Utterly in awe, he reached out to try and touch one of the strangers... but the hand that appeared before him was not his own. _This_ was a human hand, with normal skin tone and five well-formed digits - a series of short, golden-coloured hairs poking up along his arm in the gap between shirt cuff and wrist. Meanwhile, on the back of his neck, Sammy swore he could feel the gentle brush of yet more locks against his skin.

 

At first, everything he was seeing and experiencing confused Sammy greatly. Then, after a moment's thought, it occurred to him what this beautiful place actually was.

 

This was a vision. A holy vision - a gift from his god in exchange for his devotion. This was the paradise all true believers in Bendy were brought to, once they were released from their bodies: their inky temples to their lord's greatness. Sammy had never once doubted his saviour, and this was his reward - his faith now even more affirmed that it had ever been before.

 

_Yet, if this was Paradise... why did it feel so familiar?_

 

Hearing a door creak, Sammy turned his head... and the Ink Lord revealed even more wonders to his prophet. Entering this busy, beautiful room was - appropriately enough - the most wonderful woman Sammy had ever laid eyes on.

 

Well-dressed, she had a curvy but perfectly-formed frame,: her proportions like those of an hourglass, her hair a flowing stream of hazel, which complimented her sapphire blue eyes. Her lips were full and luscious, and when she smiled, showing her pearl-white teeth, the room seemed to grow even brighter than it was before, and Sammy could feel his heart soaring. (Until this moment, he had doubted that he even had one anymore.)

 

But the best was yet to come. After being handed a few pages of paper by another of the room's inhabitants, Sammy stared as the woman walked - or rather, sashayed - towards a microphone, and started to sing.

 

In an instant, Sammy was spellbound. Not once, in his entire existence, had he heard such a beautiful voice. There was no way such melodies could come from a mere mortal woman.  _This_ was the voice of an angel.

 

A cool breeze softly blew through the room. As Sammy felt its refreshing touch, the winds whispered a name.

 

_Susie._

 

Bells began to ring in Sammy's head as long-lost memories re-emerged.

 

"Susie," he repeated, under his breath. "Susie Campbell."

 

His hand slipped beneath his mask - his fingertips growing wet as he felt the tears now rolling down his cheeks.

 

"My.... my Susie..."

 

All too soon, it was over. The heavenly scene vanished as swiftly as it had appeared, and Sammy was once again in the ancient, ink-flooded room - the candles he had lit for his Lord providing the only light.

 

Crawling on his knees closer to the cut-out, Sammy clasped his inky hands together in supplication, begging his god to return the vision to him. As the minutes passed painfully, Sammy's pleas only grew more desperate - his body crumbling onto the floor as he sunk into a weeping, groaning heap, promising to give his saviour anything he desired if he would just let him see his beautiful Susie for one more moment.

 

(In his lair, the Ink Demon - the cut-out's eyes acting as a substitute for his own - fell off of his throne as he howled with wicked laughter, relishing his servant's torment.)

 

Once Sammy realised that begging was getting him nowhere, he composed and calmed himself, and carefully got to his feet - bowing solemnly to the icon before him.

 

_Of course. Blessings were granted, not demanded. From now on, he would need to devote himself to his faith more than ever in order to win the favours he so desperately sought. The Ink Demon's will be done._

 

As he prepared to return to his prayers, Sammy jumped in alarm as he heard a loud crash coming from down the hall. Immediately on his guard, he seized a old piece of ink-stained pipe that had fallen through the ceiling - well, Bendy knows when - and dashed towards the door, opening it slowly, and checking that the coast was clear before stepping out, sneaking swiftly in the direction of the sound.

 

Some moments later, the former music director found himself stood in front of a pile of crumbled plaster and smashed wooden floorboards. Beneath them, wriggling wildly as he struggled to get free, was a man. A human.

 

Sammy didn't like it when his prayerful rituals were disturbed. Raising the pipe above his head, he brought it down with all of his might, intending to smash out of the brains of his stranger - until his face looked up into his, and made Sammy stop short as he recognised who it was.

 

"H... Henry?"

 

"Sammy!" replied the intruder, in a stunned voice - one slightly more croaky and aged than the one Sammy recalled, but definitely Henry's. "You... you remember me?"

 

"Yes," Sammy answered... arguably more surprised by this than Henry was. Reaching down, he shoved the wreckage aside offered his now near-elderly ex-colleague his hand, and pulled him to his feet.

 

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

 

"Joey - Joey sent me a letter," Henry told him. "And, now that I'm here... now that I've seen everything... I want to help you. _All_ of you. You, Norman, Susie -"

 

"Susie?!" Sammy repeated. "She's... she's _here?_ _My_ Susie's here?"

 

Henry's eyes widened. Only a couple of days ago, when Sammy had captured him as a sacrifice, he'd had no clue who he was. Now, not only did he recognise him - despite the effects of thirty years of ageing upon his body - but he also seemed to recall Susie... having never mentioned her once during their earlier confrontation.

 

It seemed that Joey really _had_ accepted the deal, after all. That meant Sammy was beginning to remember who he really was.

 

At the same time, it meant the clock was now ticking.

 

"Yes," he told Sammy, taking his hand. "She's here. And I'll take you to her, right now."

 

"That... that would be wonderful..."

 

As quickly as his feet could carry him, Henry dragged Sammy through the maze of corridors towards the elevator - the latter leaving a trail of onyx-black ink behind him as they went. Time was of the essence.

 

And it was high time that the prophet met the angel.


	3. The Angel of Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy (with Henry) arrives on Level Nine to be reunited with his lost love. But the events that follow aren't exactly the kind of ones found in romantic fairy tales...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout, thanks and kudos to Lil'Griffin, whose feedback inspired me to re-frame my intended structure of the story in a way I think will work far better. Both Sammy and Susie naturally have some bad memories of one another, so why not start this whole thing off with a bang rather than a whisper?

Up on Level Nine, Alice Angel - or Susie Campbell, as she was once known - turned up her nose as she bobbed and weaved her way around the inky bodies scattered about the floor, her heels clicking on the floorboards like a tap dance. 

  
  
These creatures really _were_ disgusting. Such a pity that she depended on them to maintain her perfection.

  
  
As she carefully balanced along beams and sidestepped holes to reach her work area, she hissed and muttered as she regarded the oozy black filth around her - until she spotted something that made her halt in her tracks.

  
  
Among the broken remains of cartoon clones, softly illuminated by candlelight, was the body of a man. A _very handsome_ man. His composure was peaceful, as if he was merely sleeping: no signs of a fight or a brutal end.

  
  
Intrigued, Susie-Alice approached the motionless figure, investigating it more closely. He was clasped in a crisp white shirt, his sand-coloured pants held up by matching braces. His build was muscular, but not overly so, and he was certainly fair of face... but the main attraction of his fine physique was the veritable mane of blond hair flowing down towards his shoulders.

  
  
As Susie-Alice reached out towards him, brushing her fingertips gently along his brow, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. As she pondered this, looking deeply into his face, she slowly recalled a name.

  
  
_Sammy. His name was Sammy._

  
  
The scene grew dark: the candle sharply snuffed out by some unseen force. When Susie-Alice turned to look at the figure again, she was horrified to discover she had her hand upon a failed Boris clone... thick black ink drooling onto her gloves. Shrieking, she kicked it away violently - then turned as she heard the rattle of the elevator approaching.

 

"Why, hello, Henry," she cooed, chuckling. "Coming back from where angels fear to tread?"

 

Her confidence turned to confusion as she saw that Henry was not alone. Stepping out of the elevator beside him was another of the foul ink creatures... only this one was very different. He was far taller, walked upright, and was well-built: a rather ridiculous mask of Bendy covering his face, and a strange, blotch-covered outfit of...

 

Sand-coloured pants. With matching braces.

 

_No. No, it couldn't be..._

 

It seemed that her shock was mirrored by this strange creature - his head tilting as he looked at her, before he swiftly turned back to Henry.

 

"That's not her!" he gasped.

 

"It is!" Henry insisted. "Just in a different body. Please, you've _got_ to believe me!"

 

Slowly, the tall creature approached Susie-Alice, who found herself backing away slowly in fear. She would not allow that inky fiend to touch her. No way.

 

"Susie?" the monster asked cautiously. "Is... is that really you?"

 

_That voice. She recognized it._

 

"Sammy!" she cried. "Sammy, it  _is_  you in there!"

 

"Oh, God, Susie!" Sammy replied, almost weeping. "I've missed you so much. I - I would have come sooner, but I had no idea you were here."

 

"I didn't know about you, either!" came the reply. "I've been hiding up here, trying to avoid those... foul slugs of ink on the other floors."

 

As Henry watched the pair proudly, Susie-Alice sighed nostalgically.

 

"God, Sammy, it's been years," she went on. "I haven't seen you since..."

 

She stopped, mid-sentence, as she felt her body growing cold: pain and anxiety rising within her as a long-suppressed memory resurfaced.

 

"Since..."

 

It had happened one morning in the recording studio. Susie had wandered in merrily, feeling utterly fulfilled and walking on air... when she suddenly felt herself crashing down: her heart smashed into a million tiny pieces by the horrific sight that met her eyes.

 

Stood there at the microphone - her microphone - was that _bitch_ , Allison Pendle. Even worse, Sammy - the man she loved and trusted - was right there with her, smiling and gazing at her like a lovesick puppy as they ran through a script scene together. 

 

 

_Her_  scene. It should be  _her_  in that booth, not that harlot.

 

 

When she'd confronted them, Sammy had given her the usual spiel - it wasn't what it looked like, it was an executive decision, all that crap. As Susie got angrier and angrier, Sammy's own frustration had grown, until he violently dropped the bombshell that, from now, the role of Alice Angel would be played by Miss Alison Pendle... words that chilled Susie's blood and shocked her into silence.

 

 

Sammy had tried to apologise, but Susie had refused to listen - instead storming off towards the break room in tears. But soon enough, her sadness was replaced by the twin forces of ambition and anger, and she knew only three things.

 

 

One: she _would_ get the role of Alice Angel back. She _was_ Alice Angel.

 

 

Two: she hated Allison Pendle.

 

 

And three: she really, really _despised_ Sammy Lawrence.

 

 

With a piercing screech, Susie-Alice lunged for Sammy violently, clasping her hands around his thin dark throat as she crudely attempted to throttle him. The ink that had drowned his frame leaked out onto her in floods, but in that moment, she really couldn't give a damn. She just wanted Sammy Lawrence dead.

 

 

As Sammy desperately tried to pull this demented harpy off him, Henry seized a cast-aside floorboard and charged towards them, striking Susie-Alice across the face and sending her spiraling across the room.

 

 

"Quick! Let's get out of here!"

 

 

Seizing Sammy's arm, Henry dragged him back to the safety of the elevator. As he closed the metal gate, with Sammy hastily pressing buttons to get them to any other floor as quickly as possible, Susie-Alice jumped to her feet and rushed at the rusted forcefield - grabbing the fretwork and screaming at the pair, vainly reaching for them with her nails ready to scratch as they ascended back into the hellish, inky depths below.

 

 

Once again, Susie-Alice was alone. Trembling, she fell to her knees - hearing the soft pitter-patter of inky tears dropping onto the floor as they rolled down her cheeks. Burying her face in her hands, she wailed in despair.

 

 

"Sammy... oh, _Sammy_..."

 

 

Meanwhile, in the elevator, Sammy fell back against the cage wall, sliding down defeated into a sitting position.

 

 

"That wasn't her," he told Henry sharply. "I _know_ it wasn't her. My Susie would _never_ have attacked me like that."

 

 

"Sammy, trust me, it's - "

 

 

"I don't care what you say!" Sammy snapped. "That is _not_ my angel!"

 

 

Groaning, he turned away.

 

 

"Take me back to my sanctuary," he ordered gruffly. "I must resume my daily worship of my Lord."

 

 

Sighing, Henry nodded - but then, the second Sammy wasn't looking, he pressed his head against the elevator control panel, fighting the urge to bash his brains out upon it and be done with it.

 

 

He had thought this was a sure thing. The perfect escape plan. 

 

 

Now, he had an angel that was far from forgiving, and an prophet that didn't believe.

 

 

Somehow, Henry just knew that the next six days were going to feel like another thirty years. If he had even the slightest chance of still pulling this off... he was going to need some help.


	4. Laying a Love Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting some soup and sympathy from Boris, Henry realises that there may still be a way to get the prophet and the angel back together.

 

 

"Gee whiz, Henry - sounds like you got yourself in a real pickle."

 

After the long hours of traipsing through the hell on earth Joey Drew Studios had become, Henry was grateful for Boris and his little safehouse. Not only did it offer refuge from the the Ink Demon and his lackeys, but the toon wolf was fast becoming a good friend to Henry - offering him chats, company, and plentiful bowls of bacon soup. It was far from the finest fare in the world, but at least it was somewhat palatable, and more importantly, it would keep Henry alive... even if he now only had a matter of days left.

 

At the present moment, Henry was sat at Boris' small dining table, spooning the now-familiar brown substance into his mouth slowly - his mind deeply troubled. Boris, who had been informed of Henry's predicament some minutes prior, sat across from him, pondering the problem carefully.

 

"So Sammy and Susie were once in love?" Boris went on.

 

"Yes," Henry replied, after swallowing his latest mouthful.

 

"But now, they ain't in love no more?"

 

"I'd say that was the gist of it. Well, I think Sammy may still love Susie, but she wants nothing to do with him. And Susie, as she is now, isn't the one Sammy remembers. To be honest, after what happened today, I'd be afraid to leave them alone in a room together."

 

"Well," Boris replied, "why don't you just make them fall back in love again?"

 

Henry sighed, but smiled.

 

"Oh, if only things were that simple, Boris," he said wistfully. "It's not like they're cartoons whose plots I can create for them. Love is complicated - and the history between the two doesn't help. Let's face facts. I've _really_ screwed up here."

 

As Henry slurped up the last of his soup, Boris whimpered sadly in his sweet, puppy-like way.

 

"Shucks... it's gonna be hard saying goodbye to you, pal," he whispered. "But, if the date is set, then I guess I have to deal with it somehow."

 

As the wolf's words reached his ears, Henry's spoon dropped into the bowl with a clang as a light bulb turned on inside his head.

 

"What did you say?" he asked Boris hurriedly.

 

"I said, if the date is set -"

 

" _Date!_ " Henry cried, jumping up from his seat. "Boris, you're a genius!"

 

This revelation came as a great shock to his companion.

 

"Golly, Henry, what did I say?"

 

"Maybe there  _is_  a way they could fall back in love!" Henry continued, excitedly.

 

Pulling out his chair, he moved it closer to his animated friend, and turned it around, sitting on it backwards as he revealed his new plan.

 

"Look," he began, "when two people like each other and think there might be a spark between them, how do they test the waters? They go on a date, right?"

 

"I... I guess so."

 

"Well, that's what Sammy and Susie did, way back when. Perhaps... if they were to go on a few dates together here and now... then they'd remember the good times they had, and give their relationship a second chance."

 

Boris considered this, and grinned.

 

"That's a great idea, Henry!" he replied, thrilled. "But what kind of things do people do on dates?"

 

"Oh, all sorts of things," Henry told him. "They go and get coffee, have a walk in the park, eat at a restaurant..."

 

As the aged animator reeled off the list of romantic activities, Boris' face fell.

 

"Well, how are they gonna do that?" he asked, concerned. "We can't leave the studio, Henry! And it's not like we have a park or a restaurant down here!"

 

As Henry glanced at his empty dish on the table, he chuckled.

 

"The hell we don't!" he replied. "Boris... have you got plenty of bacon soup left?"

 

"Sure I do, Henry. Why do you ask?"

 

"You'd better find some spare dishes," Henry went on. "Tonight, love will be on the menu..."

 

* * *

 

In a sheltered nook on Level Nine, Susie-Alice was busy applying a new layer of freshly collected ink to her ebony locks when she heard the elevator's echoing rattle once again. 

 

_Gee. Looks like Sammy Lawrence was coming back for round two._

 

Her patience having grown thin following the earlier incident, Susie-Alice slammed the lid back onto her collecting jar, checked her face in a broken looking-glass, and stormed out towards the arriving cage, prepared to give the former music director a piece of her mind. 

 

She was shocked, then, to discover that, this time, Henry had come up alone.

 

"Oh, it's you again," she muttered. "What do you want?"

 

"Listen," Henry began. "About earlier -"

 

"I'd rather not discuss it," came the flat response.

 

"Look... Susie, Alice, whichever you prefer," Henry continued. "I really think things between you and Sammy started back up on the wrong foot - "

 

"That man  _betrayed_  me!" Susie-Alice screeched back, turning away. "He will  _never_  know how much he hurt me!"

 

"No!" Henry cried. "No, see - that's where you're wrong!"

 

The angel stopped. Intrigued, she looked back at Henry.

 

"What do you mean?" 

 

"Sammy really  _does_  know how much he upset you," Henry told her - putting on a performance that could have won him an Oscar. "The guilt's been eating away at him for years and years. He  _longs_  for your forgiveness - the only reason he prays to Bendy so much is to try and gain the forgiveness you've denied him."

 

Susie-Alice cackled.

 

"Good," she said bluntly. "It's what he deserves."

 

"He understands why you reacted the way you did when he came up before. He was anticipating it. It took him all of his courage to come here."

 

"I guess he's not a complete moron, then."

 

"All he's asking for is one chance," Henry went on. " _One chance_  to try and make things up to you."

 

"He could never do that."

 

"Will you not let him  _try_ , at least? If not for his sake, then for mine. For the sake of everyone in the Sillyvision crew back in the good old days. They all knew what a kind and loving person you were, Susie. You'd always take pity on those who needed it."

 

It seemed his sweet-talk was having an effect. Susie-Alice's cold demeanour appeared to be cracking - shuffling her weight from foot to foot as the animators' words washed over her. 

 

"Just one chance, Susie.  _Please_."

 

As she looked over and saw the longing stare in Henry's eyes, the angel groaned, and relented, waving a hand nonchalantly.

 

"All right," she hissed between gritted teeth. "What did he have in mind?"

 

"Dinner," Henry explained. "Down on Level K."

 

Susie-Alice's eyes widened as fear seized hold of her.

 

"Down... down there?" she gasped. "With those...  _things_  crawling about?"

 

"I'll meet you at the elevator," Henry offered. "I'll escort you to the meeting point, and back again at the end of the night."

 

"You won't let that foul inky vermin touch my beautiful body?"

 

"No. You'll be completely safe. I promise."

 

As she considered this proposal carefully, Susie-Alice sighed, and nodded.

 

"All right, Henry," she muttered. "I'll give him one chance."

 

"Excellent. I'll meet you down there at 6."

 

* * *

 

Within his sanctuary, Sammy lay prostrated before the cutout Bendy, rapidly muttering prayers under his breath - when he was suddenly jolted out of his religious fervor by the sound of strings being plucked and keys being hit beyond the concealed doorway. 

 

_Somebody_  was trying to get in.

 

Reaching for his dustpan - his faithful weapon - Sammy braced himself for an attack. As the door swung open, Sammy thundered towards it, dustpan raised in readiness... but then slid to a halt as he noticed a familiar face.

 

Tutting, he tossed the dustpan aside.

 

"Oh. Henry. It's you," he barked gruffly. "I told you before - I don't like having my prayers disturbed."

 

"Sorry, Sammy, but I figured this was urgent," Henry replied. "I have a message from Susie."

 

As he dropped to his knees before his Lord's cut-out image once more, Sammy shook his head violently.

 

"That  _thing_  up there isn't Susie," he said authoritatively. "I told you  _that_  before, as well."

 

"You're wrong, Sammy," Henry insisted. "Look, I know she upset you earlier.  _She's_  upset, too. She's sat up there right now, heartbroken. She really is sorry she overreacted to your visit."

 

"She tried to kill me, Henry."

 

"Like I said, she overreacted."

 

He giggled.

 

"Women - am I right?"

 

Sammy scoffed, bowing down before his saviour.

 

"Look, look, look," Henry continued hurriedly. "The point is, she's calmed down, and she wants to make things up to you. She's invited you to dinner later."

 

Popping up like a meerkat, Sammy stared at him in shock.

 

"Dinner?" he said quizzically.

 

"Yeah. Up on Level K. It'll be just like old times, right?"

 

Sammy hesitated.

 

"I... I have evening prayers..."

 

"Oh,  _come on_ , Sammy!" Henry hissed. "You worship Bendy all day, every day. I'm sure he knows how much you love him by know. I'm sure he'd be happy for you to take one night off to try and work things out with someone you care about."

 

Sammy was still reluctant.

 

"Well, I... I don't have anything to wear..."

 

Henry had dealt with enough crap since he'd arrived here. Some half-hearted excuses weren't going to stop him and his plans now.

 

"You look fine as you are," he said - lying through his teeth. "But, if you're really worried, I'm sure me and Boris can help you out. Look, Susie  _really_  wants this chance to try and make things right. Shouldn't a good prophet show mercy to others?"

 

Slowly, Sammy stood up.

 

"Fine," he groaned. "I'll come to dinner. But you and Boris better make me look presentable."

 

"Not a problem," Henry replied. "Meet me on Level K at 5.30. By the time we're though, Sammy Lawrence, you'll look like a movie star."

 

* * *

 

Observing the scene through the eyes of Sammy's idol, the Ink Demon hissed, and leaned back on his throne in annoyance.

 

"So,  _that's_  your game, is it, Henry?!" he roared. "You think if you make the circumstances right, you'll get those two back together? Well, not on my watch! This is one bet I am  _not_  going to lose!"

 

With the toss of a paw, Joey hurled blobs of ink onto the floor below. As they landed, they raised themselves up, and took on the form of small, sluggish Searchers.

 

"Get yourselves to Level K, my little darlings," their creator purred. "Let's see if we can make the lovebirds lose their appetite..."


	5. Tonight We Dine in The Lighter Side of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple, candlelight and some cans of Bacon Soup. What can possibly go wrong?

As the clock rapidly ticked towards the eighteenth hour, things were frantic in the safehouse.  

 

Boris rushed around the living space, hastily carrying cans of Bacon Soup towards the stove in order to whip up a meal. Meanwhile, Sammy and Henry were in the bedroom - the prophet sat quietly on the camp bed as the animator skillfully poured and brushed extra layers of ink onto his head, forming a bizarre, unique coiffure. Hanging from the hammock was an old jacket, likewise smeared in the black liquid to give it the appearance of a tuxedo - drops plinking onto the floor in small puddles as it dried.

 

Exhaling deeply, Henry stepped away from Sammy with a satisfied smile - placing the empty ink bottle aside, where it joined several others.

 

"There," he said. "That ought to do it."

 

Tentatively, Sammy reached up towards his head and neck. He could feel thick, semi-solid streaks of ink piled upon them, the sensation awakening some long-forgotten memories.

 

_It had been like this before. Only... it was blond back then..._

Before Sammy had the chance to really dig his fingers into his new sludgy locks, Henry's own hands shot out, grasping his wrists gently.

 

"Don't - don't mess with it too much," he said hastily. "It might not stay in place otherwise. You want to look good for Susie, don't you?"

 

"Of course."

 

As Henry beheld his handiwork, he knew there was no chance of him rivaling the great Hollywood stylists. Yet, he remained strangely proud of it. If you ignored the colour, and maybe squinted a little - or a lot - it could  _almost_ be mistaken for Sammy's old mane of locks, and he hoped the sight of it might revive some old memories in Susie.

 

"Come on," he told Sammy. "Get your tux on. I'll just go and get the finishing touch."

 

As Henry stepped outside, Sammy rose and retrieved the dripping jacket from the hammock: sliding it over his arms and onto his body with great care, feeling it slowly attach to his already ink-drenched form. As he turned to and fro examining himself, he smiled. 

 

Not too bad at all.

 

As he looked up, he noticed Henry had returned - a strip of white material in his hands.

 

"Here," he said brightly. "I got this off one of the Bendy dolls. I'll tie it for you."

 

At first, Sammy began to panic as Henry wrapped the cloth strip around his throat... but then relaxed as he watched the aged animator tie it into a small, but neat, bow. Reaching up to touch it with his oozy fingers, Sammy beamed with pride.

 

"Just like my savior's," he remarked. 

 

"Sure," Henry replied flatly. "If you like."

 

After he had escorted Sammy back to the kitchen - where Boris was setting up candles and bowls upon the table - he headed towards the large, vault-style door.

 

"I'll just go and pick up Susie," he said. "Wait here. And keep an eye out for Searchers - I don't want anything messing this up."

 

* * *

Inside the elevator, Susie-Alice tapped a foot impatiently as she awaited her escort. Just beyond the cage, she could see slimy Searchers and Lost Ones slithering around on the tarnished, cracked floorboards. As a sharp yell rang out from the end of the corridor, she stifled a shriek of horror - until Henry came into view, swinging a spanner wildly and smashing all the inky creatures in his wake, clearing a path.

 

"I've been waiting for you," Susie-Alice hissed.

 

"I know," Henry replied. "Sorry I'm a little late... had some trouble further down the hall. It's all taken care of now, though. Come on - Boris has started cooking already."

 

"You won't let those - those  _things_  touch me?"

 

"No. You're totally safe. I promise."

 

Cautiously, Susie-Alice opened the elevator cage and stepped out on tiptoe. As Henry offered her his arm, she took it slowly, linking it in her own, and allowed the animator to lead her back towards the safehouse. 

 

Every so often, Searchers would jump out at them as they walked, but Henry simply beat them away. Just as he'd promised, he never allowed them to touch Susie-Alice. After a while, the ink angel began to relax, and started to place her trust in her escort. 

 

If he was willing to do all this just to get her to see Sammy... then maybe the musician  _did_  deserve another chance, after all.

 

* * *

 

As Henry led Susie-Alice through the safehouse door, her eyes widened as they fell on the table in the kitchen nook.

 

Everything was dark, bar the light of a few flickering candles - creating a rather romantic atmosphere. Sat at the table in - some sort of ill-fashioned suit, by the looks of it - was Sammy Lawrence, only with...  _something_  smeared on the top of his head to create a fake hairstyle. 

 

It was almost laughable - and yet, strangely charming.

 

As Susie-Alice approached the table, it was impossible to tell if her date was smiling - his face still concealed by the mask. However, like a true gentleman, Sammy rose to his feet in her presence, and greeted her warmly.

 

"Good evening, Susie."

 

"Hello, Sammy. You're looking..."

 

A pause as she struggled to choose a fitting word.

 

"... smart."

 

"Thank you. Please, take a seat."

 

Rushing to the other side of the table, Sammy pulled out the second chair - pushing it back in slowly as Susie-Alice took her seat. Once Sammy had settled back into his own place, Boris smiled at the couple.

 

"Might I suggest the House Special?" he asked.

 

"And that is?" Susie-Alice probed.

 

"Bacon Soup."

 

The dates exchanged hesistant glances.

 

"What else have you got?" Sammy asked Boris.

 

"That's... pretty much it."

 

"I'm sure it's fine," Susie-Alice replied, sounding almost like her old self. "We'll take it."

 

As Boris scurried over to the stove, a heavy silence fell around the table. Clearing his throat nervously, Sammy decided that if anyone was going to get this ball rolling, it would have to be him.

 

"So," he began. "What have you been... up to?"

 

"Not much," Susie replied. "Just taking ink from other creatures to try and preserve my beauty. You?"

 

"Worshipping our Lord and Savior Bendy."

 

"Oh. I... I bet  _that_  keeps you busy."

 

"Full-time job."

 

The two laughed, but it was so forced, you could feel the falseness digging into your flesh like talons.

 

A break in the horrifically awkward proceedings came as Henry laid two spoons onto the table, smiling politely at each guest in turn. However, even his grin had an artificial air.  In his head, he was trying to be optimistic about the fact the pair hadn't tried to kill each other thus far, but deep down, he was begging them both to find their old spark. It was painful to watch them like this, like lost cartoon characters in need of a script. For his sake, they needed to get their act together, and fast.

 

 

Then, an idea.

 

As he helped Boris ladle the Bacon Soup into bowls, Henry started to hum a tune - quietly at first, but then increasing the volume when he noticed the lack of reaction. After another moment or two had passed, Susie-Alice's eyebrows shot upwards.

 

"Wait!" she cried. "I... I remember this song! _The Lighter Side of Hell_. It's... it's one of yours, Sammy, right?

 

Casting his mind back into the slowly-clearing haze of the studio's glory years, flashes of images - bass strings being plucked, piano keys being pushed - blazed across Sammy's mind, and he smiled.

 

"Yes!" he whispered, somewhat awed he could still recall it. "It... it was a duet. Written for Bendy and Alice Angel."

 

"You know," Susie-Alice said merrily, "I think I still remember the words."

 

Cautiously, the angel began to sing along with Henry's hummed melody -  Sammy strumming his fingers on the table in time to the tune. Slowly, as her confidence grew, Susie-Alice's heavenly singing grew louder and louder: her beautiful voice unchanged by the long years, despite being trapped in a semi-demonic body. Occasionally, a lyric escaped her foggy memory, but it didn't break her stride: simply substituting in a "something" or a "da-da" as she carried on valiantly and proudly. 

 

At first, Sammy simply listened to this performance in total adoration. Now _this_ was the Susie he remembered. Perhaps Henry _had_ been telling the truth, after all. Eventually, though, he found himself unable to resist, and he joined in with the singing, reciting the lyrics originally written for his savior - his own raspy voice creaking with unfamiliarity, due to being years out of practice, but soon growing in strength.

 

As the song came to an end, the couple turned their heads as they heard the sound of applause. 

 

"Bravo!"

 

Once Henry had finished clapping, he brought the bowls over to the table, as Susie-Alice and Sammy hung their heads sheepishly.

 

"Oh, come now!" Henry said brightly. "No need to be embarrassed - that was a marvellous performance. Anyway... dinner is served. _Bon appetit!_ "

 

As Sammy looked into the murky brown liquid placed before him, it didn't exactly get his ol' tastebuds tingling. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Picking up his spoon, he scooped up a mouthful of the soup, and tasted it tentatively. 

 

Not the best thing he'd tasted. Far from it. Still, it was palatable, at least.

 

After watching Sammy's reaction, Susie-Alice allowed herself to relax. She had likewise dreaded having to taste the offered cuisine, but her date appeared to be eating with no ill effects. Reassured, she started on her own meal.

 

For a few moments, the pair simply ate together in an amiable warm silence. Sammy's happiness, by far, was the more genuine.

 

_Yes... he remembered now. This was how it all began. A little while after he'd started working with Susie, he'd invited her to join him at his table at lunch - an offer she'd accepted. After that, it became a daily routine. How he'd loved chatting away to her, sharing jokes with her... the time flying by so quickly, they often clocked back in a little later than they should have._   _Then, after a month or so... he'd suggested lunch should progress to dinner._

 

_They'd gone to a little bistro downtown. Candlelight and music, rather like tonight - only with better food. It had been perfect._

 

_Their first date._

 

_Wait - first date? Had there been more?_

 

Suddenly, Susie-Alice froze in horror as she spotted something in her bowl. A _black, slug-like_ something.

 

Just as Sammy was slowly bringing himself out of his happy memories, he suddenly found himself soaking wet: covered in the contents of Susie's bowl, his new inked hairdo melting away. The angel had emitted an almighty shriek: leaping to her feet and pushing the table over in alarm.

 

As Henry prepared to rush over, he spotted the cause of Susie-Alice's distress.

 

A group of tiny, ink-filled Searchers, crawling their way across the floorboards from within the remnants of the china bowl.

 

_Damn it! They must have crawled in when he and Boris were distracted._

 

Seizing the ladle, Henry violently smashed the creatures into oblivion. Then, he turned his attention back to the terrified woman. Her eyes had narrowed, and she was pointed an accusing finger at her host.

 

"You... you tried to poison me!" she hissed. "Those... those creatures! They were going to destroy me from the inside! This whole thing was a trap!"

 

"No!" Henry cried in protest. "No, I swear - I didn't know they were in there!"

 

"Then _he_ did it!" Susie-Alice shrieked, turning to Sammy. "I _knew_ he didn't deserve another chance!"

 

Sammy said nothing. He looked a miserable and pathetic sight: sat low in his chair as a mixture of ink and soup dripped from his body. Even when Susie-Alice leaned into his face furiously - fangs bared, her full monstrosity on show - he didn't move an inch.

 

"Don't you ever show your face on Level Nine again!" Susie-Alice snapped at the musician. Then, after walking over to the ladle and snatching it up - smashing the limited remains of the Searchers for good measure - she stormed out of the safehouse: now armed and ready to protect herself from any inky predators, rather than placing any further trust in the animator.

 

Sighing heavily, Henry collected up the shatter fragments of the bowl, then walked up to the dejected Sammy - who still hadn't budged from his chair.

 

"I'm so sorry, Sammy," he said. "I swear to God, if I'd known - "

 

Sammy swiftly raised his hand - indicating to his host that he should stop speaking.

 

"It really _is_ my angel, isn't it?" he asked, heartbroken. "She's still there, somewhere inside that... _monster_."

 

"Yes," Henry told him. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

 

Slowly, Sammy got to his feet.

 

"I was wrong to place my faith in you," he said flatly. "If my Susie is trapped inside that... that _thing_ , then the only being left with the power to save her is my Lord."

 

"Sammy, _please..._ I promise you, if you just -"

 

" _No_ ," Sammy barked. "No more. You are but a human. My Lord is divine."

 

Jerking his shoulders, he allowed the tuxedo jacket to slide of his body, sending it tumbling to the floor with a thud. Next, he snatched the bow tie from around his neck, casting it downwards, then headed towards the exit. Hovering in the doorway, he turned back towards the animator and his wolf companion.

 

"Thank you," he added weakly. "For everything you have tried to do."

 

Shoulders slumped, and his spirits broken, he made his way out.

 

As Boris went to find some cleaning supplies, Henry stood the table back up, straightened up the chairs, and then sat himself down - burying his head in his hands as he contemplated the situation. When Boris returned, he noticed his friend's sadness, but decided it was best to give him some space, and busied himself with mopping up soup puddles instead.

 

Desperately, the animator racked his brain for positive points about the date's events. Well... Sammy appeared to have remembered Susie more clearly, and now knew for sure that she was somewhere inside Alice. _That_ was progress, at least.

 

But, on the other hand, it was highly unlikely Susie would ever trust him or Sammy enough again to try and continue the courtship. They were back at square one there - or possibly even square zero. He swore he could hear the Ink Demon cackling inside his head.

 

If this was a movie, this would be the end of the first act. It would take hard work, and some clever planning, to still get to the happy ending.

 

_A movie..._

 

Henry lifted his head slowly. Perhaps a second date wasn't out of the question, after all. He'd just have to reel in another old friend for help - pun probably intended. They wouldn't exactly be a willing participant, but given that death was Henry's only other option, he wasn't afraid of going down to the dark places to seek him out...


End file.
